


Reincarnation

by AnotherWriterWhoWrites



Series: 2015 Wincestmas [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12 Days of Wincestmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 19:31:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5838118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWriterWhoWrites/pseuds/AnotherWriterWhoWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the first one, they were on separate sides in a war. One was on the side of the Roman army and the other on the Germanic tribe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reincarnation

In the first one, they were on separate sides in a war. One was on the side of the Roman army and the other on the Germanic tribe.

The Germanic warrior was captured and put to work as a slave, his large height and broad body making him perfect for manual labor.

It didn’t matter if he complained or tried to argue, scars across his body told of what happened when he had tried and no one cared to speak his language other than other slaves.

There was one Roman, a warrior that had helped to defeat and capture the Germanics, who was unable to keep his eyes off of the man. His green eyes narrowed as he would follow the man as he worked and sweated, shirtless and muscles rippling across his form.

Soon enough the man was in his dreams, small grunts he had heard from when he worked, and writhing underneath him leaving him gasping awake with a strained member that his wife wasn’t unable to assist with, leaving him aching and wanting more.

It all came to a head when one day the Roman snapped and grabbed the man, throwing him and pinning him to the wall. The Germanic laughed at the look on the Romans face and almost daringly, as if wanting to play with fire, spread his legs.

“I have a wife.” the Roman snarled, not caring that the other man didn’t understand him as he wrapped his hands around his throat.

The Germanic laughed once more, strained but very clear. “So do I.” he said in perfect Latin. “But I was taken from her, never to see her again. And you, yet here you are.”

The Roman stepped back, not quite sure of what emotions were running through him at that moment.

“You didn’t say that you can speak our language.” he hissed at him.

The Germanic shrugged. “No one cared to ask, I’m just lucky I have not been sold to the brothel. ”

The Roman glared at the Germanic. “I will tell that you can speak.” he threatened.

The Germanic laughed once more, mirth clear in his body and voice. “I don’t have to admit to anything, it’s rare enough for my people to speak the language of your people, no one will believe you.”

A few days later, there was a revolt, the slaves banded together, months of whispered planning with one soldier understanding the Latin language enough to be able to understand the timings and the schedules of the guards and workers around them.

Most managed to acquire weaponry and fight their way out, intent on returning to their land and their families back home.

The Roman didn’t join the battle, preferring this time, and only this time, to stay behind to protect the innocent people from getting hurt.

Neither the Roman or the Germanic were able to completely forget the other, even with their wives and even until their deaths.

In the second one they worked together. A king and his knight.

He was a simple and kind king but he ruled with an iron fist, with a kind heart. But as a king, many were jealous and deemed that he was not a proper king, too kind, too focused on the peasants. He raised the taxes on the wealthy and lowered the taxes on the poor.

The knight protected the king with his life, sworn to him and his side through thick and thin. The knight loved his king and had devoted his life to serving and protecting the man.

He came through with his oaths on the day that one of the Lords had sent an assassin, throwing himself in front of a arrow meant for the kings heart.

The arrow pierced through the knights chest but the king felt as if his heart had been speared one way or the other.

In the third one they were both women in the 1800s, both in arranged marriages in which they were unable and found solace with one another.

There didn’t seem to be anything wrong, both were married women and they tended to the houses to a degree, there were no children as of yet but there were servants to take care of the house to a larger degree, leaving the both of them free to indulge in each other companies.

They spent almost every waking moment that was possible with one another. In the morning the other woman was the first that they thought of when they awoke, at night they were the last thought they had when they went to sleep. Any moment apart was spent thinking of the other and how to return to one another again.

They feigned sicknesses and lied to doctors, anything possible they could say that would prevent their husbands from sleeping with them to try to make a child. Neither wanted a child from the man, they had no desire to bring children into a loveless marriage or an empty household.

They lied and swindled and accepted the pity of the townspeople with bowed heads.

If anything it made the relationship between the two closer and more acceptable, nothing brought women closer together to comfort the other than being infertile.

It wasn’t something spoken about, two ladies being together as a man and women would, it wasn’t something even considered or was proper or anything even close that could be thought about.

But they managed, with quivering and shaking hands, excited breaths of passion, and the love and adoring in their eyes for one another, that was all they needed.

The servants whispered to one another, scandalized and excited, whisper from whisper to whisper. Soon enough word spread and the women realized that their time together now had a bit of a time limit.

When the husbands had gotten wind of what might have been and the whispers through the town they acted quickly to preserve the reputation of the family. They sold their houses, took everything they had, grabbed their wives, and moved to the country, each one on the other side of the country itself and forbidden from even contacting one another or learning of the other. It was done so quickly and abruptly that neither had a moment to realize what was happening. Neither had a moment to bid the other farewell.

Neither had another moment again to tell the other they loved them.

In the end when it was time to pass on and go onto the next life they died unsatisfied and very much in distress, more than glad that this life was over.

In the fourth they were simple factory workers during WWII.

There wasn’t anything special in this life other than they were able to get away with more than they had in the previous one.

Both were women again but this time, neither one were in an arranged marriage and they were free enough to be with one another.

There was pressure from both of their families to stop living with one another and find husbands, become proper women. But after moving into the city, living together for months, working together in factories as the men were shipped out to fight, they found it hard to care about what their families had wanted for them.

In this life no one blinked an eye at two women living together, it was deemed proper and almost ‘safe’, no indiscretions and no hints of impropriety.

That is until they were in their thirties and later in their forties and they never left one another, never had a hint of a male in either of their lives, and never a clue that there was anyone else but one another.

It wasn’t a long life they lived and they had to remain hidden for most of it but in the end, they both died with smiles on their faces, one sick and dying and the other falling asleep and to never awaken, both of them in their bed holding hands.

In the fifth they were brothers, but it never stopped them for a single moment. The pull to one another was so great that neither had a chance to avoid or even think of ignoring it.

They saved the world and then damned it and then saved it once more.

They defied heaven, hell, God, and even Death. They died and were brought back to life, fought and broke up, were apart and then, always, always, always, brought back together and two halves made whole again.

And as with every lifetime and every choice they made, the were brought together more and more.

“Dean.” the younger murmured, his first word in this lifetime and the only word that truly mattered.

“Sam.” whispered the older one, the only word that ever made sense to him.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Supernatural.
> 
> There is a graphic accompanying this fic here: http://txdora.tumblr.com/post/135604105386/wincestmas-day-7-in-the-first-one-they-were-on


End file.
